On Broken Wings
by ILoveJorja
Summary: An ILoveJorja/rage.edit Collaboration Grissom and Sara have a mutual love interest. Their lover is murdered and angst ensues. Eventually becomes romance. Smut is guaranteed-including threesomes and F/F. Our first story together-send reviews?
1. Chapter 1

**BROKEN WINGS**

**CHAPTER ONE**

"Nick, Greg, you have an apparent murder-suicide at the Tropicana. Warrick, help out with Catherine's case—she may need to break off for court."

"You got it, boss." There was a pregnant pause. The men took the hint and filed out.

"What about me?" Sara asked Grissom.

Grissom sighed. He hated to do this, but had no choice. "I need you to process a female. A rape victim at Desert Palm." He looked at her, concern evident in his blue eyes.

"That's fine." Sara said evenly. Seeing his expression, her face softened briefly. _He worries about me._ "Gris, I'll be fine, really."

"If you have any difficulties?"

"You'll be my first call." A smile flashed on her pretty face. "Now give." She stood and took the assignment slip. Grissom was still blocking her exit.

"Anything else?"

"Uh..." _So much I'd like to say. Don't get emotionally involved, honey. Don't burn out on me...don't leave. This isn't the time or the place...but when?...where?_

Sara touched the back of his hand reassuringly. "You'll be here? In the lab?"

Grissom finally smiled. "I'll be here, Sara."

Sara parked the SUV and trudged toward the hospital reluctantly. _Seems like I'm here every week. Every night, sometimes._

"Hi, I'm Sara Sidle, from the Crime Lab?"

"Yes, Miss Sidle?"

"I'm here to collect evidence from..." she looked at her slip of paper, "a Susan Fisher."

"Of course. Right this way."

The nurse's aide led her to a room with two curtained beds. Only one was occupied. Sara could see the silhouette of a nurse moving about the bed. She cleared her throat politely.

"Hi? I'm from the Crime Lab, may I come in?"

"Yes."

Sara slid the curtain aside and came face to face with an attractive brunette in green scrubs. Little stuffed animals were pinned on her chest. They stared at each other for a moment.

"Hello. I'm, CSI Sara...Sidle," she stammered. "You look familiar. Do I know you?"

The nurse looked her over for a moment then laughed heartily. "I'm Debbie. Come here, I'll show you." Debbie took Sara's arm and led her to the small restroom. The light came on automatically as she opened the door.

Debbie pointed at the mirror. "See?" she said, smiling into the reflection of both faces.

"You...we look alike!" Sara laughed too. "I guess you do look familiar."

"You do too." Then her expression grew serious. "You're here for Susan?"

"That's right." Taking advantage of their distance from the patient, Sara asked, "Can you tell if she was..."

"Raped?" the nurse said quietly. "No doubt about it. We gave her a sedative. You won't be able to talk to her for a few hours..."

"That's fine. I can get the trace evidence from her now. Did you do a SART kit? Do you have her clothes?"

"Yes. Right here."

"Guess you know the drill."

They exchanged a sad smile. "Yes. We get too many rape victims."

Sara began shooting photos of the woman's face and body, combing her hair, scraping her fingernails, documenting her injuries. She felt compelled to keep talking to the nurse. _ There's something about her_... Sara didn't know it, but Debbie felt the same.

"So why haven't I seen you before?"

"Oh, I transferred down here about three months ago. I was in post-op, seventh floor." A shadow crossed her face.

Sara saw it. "Any particular reason why?"

"The doctors...well, the surgeons really, are a bunch of creeps. Think nurses are only here to satisfy their sexual needs."

"Really."

"Yeah. It's something. And one guy was getting clingy...I could tell you stories!"

"I'd like that." Sara's voice deepened.

"Like what?"

"To hear your stories." Their eyes met, acknowledging the mutual attraction.

Debbie's eyes smiled. _I'm interested. _"I'm due for my dinner break..."

"What a coincidence. So am I." They chuckled.

"To the cafeteria, then."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**BROKEN WINGS**

**CHAPTER TWO**

The conversation flowed all the way up the elevator to the top floor, as they slid their trays through the cafeteria, as they ate at their table, and back down to the nurse's station, where Sara retrieved her locked bagged evidence and the SART kit.

"So...I'll be back, to interview the victim?"

"I'll call you when she wakes up," Debbie promised.

"You do that," Sara said warmly. "Here's my card." She scribbled her home and cell numbers on the back of the business card issued by the crime lab.

"Thanks. This has been..." Debbie said, blushing as their fingers touched.

"Yeah." Sara smiled her famous smile. "It has. I'll see you later?"

"Yes. You will." There was no mistaking Debbie's flirtatious tone. They looked at each other's lips, eyes, smiled, and then Sara turned and left.

Back at the lab, she couldn't keep a silly grin from her face. _God it feels good to feel that again. Chemistry. The simple joy of talking to a new...what? Love interest._ _It's been a while. A long while. Especially with another woman._

Grissom found her in the layout room once his "Sara Spider Sense" told him she was back in the building. With no one else, ever, was he able to sense their presence, even if he couldn't see her or hear her voice. Once the hairs stood up on the back of his neck—like his tarantula, come to think of it—he roamed the halls in search of the woman who had bewitched him since they'd met.

Grissom paused in the doorway. Sara was singing softly to herself. He hadn't heard her do that in a very long time. And he missed it. It meant she was content with her life. And what a lovely singing voice!

"Take...these broken wings, and learn to fly again..."

Sara moved around the table and caught sight of Grissom. She flashed him a happy smile and his face cleared. He stepped toward her without thought. _Sara is happy. So am I. If Sara is happy..._

"You look like you're having a good day."

"I am. Thanks." Her slender gloved hands roved gracefully over the evidence, the clothes, tweezing minute evidence and readying a microscope slide.

"How did it go at the hospital?"

He expected her grin to disappear but it didn't.

"Good." Her voice didn't even sound sarcastic. It sounded genuine. There had

to be something else going on...she looked like she'd just had sex or something.

"Sara, did you just get laid?" Grissom said before his brain caught up with his mouth. Sara spluttered with shock.

"Doctor Grissom, I think that comment was rather inappropriate!" Yet she didn't seem to take offense. The grin on her face grew even wider, if that was possible.

"What! It was an honest question," Grissom said lightly, enjoying the resumption of their flirting banter. He'd missed that too.

"Do I sense jealousy?" She cocked that high eyebrow and kept a smile.

"No... maybe...a little...I just wanted to know why you're so happy?" _That wasn't mean to come out. It isn't often that I show my true feelings to Sara...I know I should...it just makes me feel vulnerable._

The look on her face was utter surprise. The look on his face was utter surprise.  
_I feel like a goddamn teenager! Why can't I keep my mouth shut?_

"I mean...um, it been a while since I've seen you smile...it's good to see you smile. And hear you sing." Grissom mumbled.

"Thanks." She suddenly looked shy. "Gris...I've met someone new and I just have that feeling...you know?"

"Oh." Grissom's face fell. It felt like his heart turned to lead and dropped a foot in his chest. "Oh." _Did I really expect her to wait forever? For me? A beauty like her...smart, sweet, charming, sexy...of course there will always be someone who wants her._

"Good... um. Good for you. And for your new...beau."

_Shit! Why did I tell him that? It was going so well. We've been doing so well. And you screwed it up, Sidle._

Grissom's beeper went off. He was actually grateful to have the excuse to leave and sort out his conflicting feelings. _ I should be happy for her! So why do I feel like I've been hit by a truck?_

"Um, Sara, call me when you get something. Hodges wants me in Trace," Grissom said coldly. He turned to leave.

_Quick! Sara, say something! _

"Grissom, wait."

He turned back. His face was closed off again. _Dammit!_

"It isn't...it isn't like that. I just made a new friend, that's all." _Why am I trying to explain...or make it sound like it's less than it is?_

"Um hmm. Your personal life...doesn't concern me."

_Yes it does!_

"I may have something for you in a few minutes. When you're done in Trace."

Grissom shifted to professional mode. _The case. Concentrate on the case, the work. We'll always have that. I hope. _A picture flashed in his mind. _Sara with another man. Home with a bunch of kids. Nursing some other man's baby. Kissing him...having sex with him. _His face darkened and he turned away quickly_. Jealous, Sara? You have no idea how much!_

Sara swore angrily to herself as he went out. Grissom felt a flame of hope when he heard that. But he mentally stamped it out.

Her cell phone rang. Her heart lightened when she heard Debbie's voice. She quickly put the evidence away and drove back to the hospital.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**ON BROKEN WINGS**

**CHAPTER THREE**

Sara did her interview. The victim knew her rapist, and even where he lived. Sidle made one phone call to Brass and the case was essentially closed. She turned and smiled at Debbie, who had shown no inclination to leave the room, and who watched her throughout.

"Well, my work here is done."

"Wow. You're good."

"Nah. Just lucky." Sara turned to the woman in the bed. "Susan cracked her own case. She's strong. And brave."

Through her cut up face and bandages, the victim smiled back at her. Sara patted her foot and they walked out of her room.

"So..." the CSI drawled suggestively.

"Yeah?"

"When do you get off?"

"As soon as I get you alone, I'm thinking." Debbie smirked.

"Oh ho. You're not shy! When do you get off _work,_ woman."

Debbie glanced at her watch. "In about...an hour."

"Cool. I have an hour too before my shift ends. And my boss doesn't know I closed my case."

"And?"

"And, I thought, I could keep you company...while I play hookey."

Debbie laughed. "I get the impression you don't play hookey very often."

"Now that you mention it, I never do. I'm a workaholic."

"So what is making you do it now?"

"You," Sara said roughly, with a smoldering look that Debbie felt like a hot coiled spring in her belly. "You're a bad influence on me."

"Oh, yeah? So I'm bad." She grabbed Sara's hands and pushed her against the wall.

"Very. Very bad. I was a saint before I met you." But Debbie's pager beeped before anything interesting happened. And then Sara's phone rang. Sara asked her to call when she got off shift before she slowly answered.

"Sidle."

"Sara? Grissom. How's your case coming?"

She watched Debbie round the corner, wave at her, and disappear. "Just closed it."

"Well done." Grissom's voice was sincerely impressed. Sara smiled, pleased with the recognition. "That's good, because I need you back here."

"I'm on my way." The phone snicked closed.

It's funny how a good mood can make the hours fly. All week Sara's good mood was contagious. Grissom was heard to tell a series of dirty jokes. Greg was so stunned he worked for two hours without music. Warrick and Nick arm wrestled in the breakroom. Catherine stopped whining about Lindsay for five whole minutes. Sara breezed in and out and everyone smiled back at her. She had gone on a date with Debbie after every shift. By the end of the first date, they had kissed. By the end of the second, Sara and Debbie made out until they were breathless and flushed. When Sara's phone vibrated, that is. By the third date, Sara stayed till breakfast. That morning they made sensuous love in the huge glass shower. Inside a startlingly white and black accented bathroom.

Debbie was...a sexual being. It was difficult for her to spend a night alone. Mostly it was men she brought or invited home—doctors, surgeons, male nurses, but occasionally it was someone new. Sara was definitely new. A breath of fresh air. The narcissism of their attraction was something they joked about often. Yet it was so good that neither woman wanted to spoil it with over-analysis. And it was really good.

Grissom selfishly kept Sara in the lab so he could absorb some of that glow, that happy glow. They worked cases smoothly and found themselves in an uncomplicated safe bubble of friendship, with the clear possibility of something more on the horizon. Grissom had opened up a little. That always helped. Sara wasn't angry or picking fights or bursting into tears. All of which made Grissom hilariously uncomfortable. He found himself joining the team at breakfast without any begging. The work was going well. They were meshing better as a team. Without anyone realizing it, Sara was the heart and mood-setter of the group. When her heart was happy, theirs lifted too.

Sara was leaning over an evidence table, the light from below giving her face an ethereal beauty. Grissom breezed in and playfully nudged her from shoulder to elbow as he came to rest beside her.

"Where have you been?" There was a ghost of a laugh in his husky voice.

"I went back to the scene. We missed something." Sara then continued, with her musical intonation, explaining how the case had unfolded in the past few hours. Grissom gazed at her profile. His brain filed away every word. But his eyes were otherwise occupied. _God, she's lovely. A work of art. And she even smells heavenly. In our line of work!_

"Grissom?" Her warm brown eyes shifted to look into his.

"Hmm?" he said, distracted by the curve of her cheekbone.

"Have you heard a word I said?"

"Of course, dear." _Dear?_

Sara gave a surprised snort. "Where did you go? Pluto?"

He laughed a little. "Sara? Would you...do you have any p..."

Catherine stomped in and barked at him. Grissom could have cheerfully throttled her. "There you are. I've been looking all over..."

And the moment was lost.

Grissom followed Sara around for the rest of the shift. And she didn't seem to mind. When it was good, like this, between them, there was no better company for her than Gilbert A. Grissom. Nor Sara for him. He was a fascinating man. With a weird sense of humor, true, but a boatload of knowledge and a cute dimple in his chin. He was just...Grissom.

So it was natural that Gil was fifty paces behind Sara at the end of a slow shift. They walked out into the parking lot. Sara seemed to be looking for something, or someone, and Grissom paused to look before he climbed into his SUV. Her face split in a wide grin and she sprinted over to a red BMW and a long-limbed brown haired girl leaning on it. Sara grabbed the mystery girl around the shoulders. And gave her a kiss. Not just a small _hi there_ kiss. Not a _hey good to see ya_ kiss. This was deep and wet. This was a kiss that was volcanic. Incendiary. A kiss that said, we had hot sex just a few hours ago and we will again in the next few minutes kiss. A I can't keep my hands off you kiss. Grissom's mouth dropped open. His fingers went numb and his keys fell to the pavement.

The two hot girls finally stopped kissing to climb into the red BMW convertible. Where they immediately started kissing again.

Grissom fumbled to climb in his vehicle. Mostly to hide the massive boner he was sporting. He slammed the door, looked around, bent over, and squeezed himself. Fuck this is hot. Fuck. This. Is. Hot.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**ON BROKEN WINGS**

**CHAPTER FOUR**

Grissom had never considered himself juvenile, even when he was one. And in truth he seemed to have jumped from childhood to adulthood very quickly. The sexual fixations of the ordinary Joe didn't interest him much; he was pretty much an old fashioned monogamist with a deep love of women. One at a time. So what if the prevailing male fantasy was a threesome with two beautiful girls? Or just watching said girls make love to each other? But. That was before he saw the wet dream that was Sara Sidle and her "friend" making out like porn stars against a red BMW. And the participant in said kiss was an equally hot female with a sleek curvy body.

With that impressively large boner he was sporting Grissom drove himself home as quickly as possible. He had his pants unzipped at the first stoplight. He had his hand around himself before even got through the door.

Grissom threw himself on the sofa, pushed down his pants to his ankles and took his length in his hands. He began stroking up and down. Imagining Sara's pale hands in place of his own. Imagining her lover's pink lips around the tip. He slowed down, torturing himself. Then he stopped. _This is not right. I...shouldn't be jerking off to that...but I can't help it!_

Grissom stripped off the rest of his clothes and stepped into a cold shower. Even that didn't work. The water, the soap, his hands, those images...soon he was pumping himself fast. Squeezing and stroking and coming hard against the wet tile. _Fuck._ He dreamed about them all night. And fantasized about them the whole time he was getting ready for work again.

For Sara, nothing mattered but Debbie's body, until she had to go back to the lab. It wasn't love. It wasn't just lust, though. It wasn't even pent up sexual energy in one and a strong, nearly nympho sex drive in the other. It was the combination, the chemistry, the timing, the years of celibacy for Sara...the freedom. Sara felt free when she was with Debbie. No hiding. No mixed messages and cryptic signals. No repressed affection. Debbie collected butterflies, and the symbolism was apt. She didn't linger long on any one flower. But she shared some sweet nectar when she did.

She had a tattoo of a butterfly across her lower back, which Sara liked to trace with a lazy finger after an energetic bout of lovemaking. They worked related jobs with the same strange schedule. They were good friends and easy lovers. They were compatible.

Grissom seemed to be always close by these days. Sometimes she would catch a glimmer of pure aching want in his eyes. She wondered why, but didn't ask.

At last he saw them at Judy's desk—there was some complication with a car in the shop—and he hurried over. Grissom greeted Sara with a compliment on her night's work, and Sara beamed at him. She gestured at Debbie.

"This is my boss, Gil Grissom. Gris, this is Debbie Marlin."

"A pleasure to meet you," Grissom said graciously, and squeezed her slender hand.

"For me too. Sara talks about you _all the time._ But she didn't tell me how handsome you are."

They both blushed, and Grissom thanked her.

"Hey, Sara and I were just going to go grab a beer, why don't you join us?" Debbie asked in a friendly tone.

"I wouldn't want to be in the way—"

"You wouldn't be in the way, would he, Sara?"

"No," she said, looking at him deeply. "Why don't you come along, Gris? Come out with us."

How could he refuse? "You sure? You don't mind a third wheel?"

"C'mon. It'll be fun."

They all squeezed in the front bench seat of Debbie's convertible. Grissom was rubbing up against both girls' thighs, and the date hadn't even started yet, and he was already aroused. Debbie took them to a Las Vegas native's hideout, a dark bar with scarred walls and tabletops and an amazing assortment of beers on tap. They decided to start by ordering their beers alphabetically. Sara and Debbie got buzzed by the letter B, and Gris was in a rare talkative mood by beer six.

"You're good for Sara, Debbie. You make her smile, and a Sara smile is like gold." They both grinned at him. "You know, Sara and I were talking jealousy, remember Sara?" She nodded. "And when I first saw the two of you together, and by I mean together, I mean you were flattening each other's lips. Sucking tongues." He smirked. Sara mock-glared at him. "But I wasn't jealous. If Debbie had been a guy, I would have been reeaaallly jealous. But it was, it's, Debbie, and she's hot and you're Sara—you were born hot—" Sara pursed her lips in pleased amusement. "—so I'm still not jealous. I'm..." He suddenly realized he was saying too much.

"You're...turned on?" Debbie asked gently.

He dropped his eyes and nodded dumbly at the table.

"So am I. Nothing wrong with that," Debbie said smoothly, and dragged Sara out on the dance floor to give Gil a chance to regroup.

He ordered another beer and watched them, wishing he could just take it out and masturbate. It didn't help that they were dancing tightly together, kissing deeply, hands roaming. He drained his mug.

Sara said something to Debbie, and she nodded, and they both looked at him. Sara cocked her head to the side and he was on his feet in a moment. Grissom staggered over and hugged them both. Sara moved in his arms so her back was to his chest and he squeezed her around the waist and kissed her neck gently, making her shiver. Debbie embraced her from the front. Sara felt as safe and loved and desired as she ever had. Grissom was in heaven, feeling that sweet body pulled against his, his face in her sweetgrass hair, and her lover embracing him. He ground his hard-on into that firm ass and she wiggled encouragingly against him. They swayed together even during the pauses in the music. They nuzzled and stroked each other's hair. Murmured words of longing and need exchanged. Nobody in the bar cared.

"Gris? Debbie?" she whispered. "Would you take me home?"

"Yes."

"Love to."

The amorous drunken scrum broke apart.

"Wait." Grissom turned Sara to face him. And he kissed her before he thought about anything but kissing her. It was a deep, slow, curious, aching, relieved, thankful, beautiful kiss. It was a kiss of promise and hope and apology, and it was what they had both wanted for so long.

They broke apart and smiled at each other. _That was good._ Then Grissom turned and kissed Debbie. It was a passionate kiss. It was a kiss that said there's more where that came from. But it didn't have the deep significance that the kiss with Sara had. The three staggered into a taxi.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**ON BROKEN WINGS**

**CHAPTER FIVE**

**A/N**: Smut storm alert! Take cover! Not for the underage or prudish. Reviews make us both happy.

At the threshold to Debbie's home, Grissom hesitated. Sara looked back at him, eyebrows raised, her fingers laced with Debbie's.

"What's wrong, Gris?"

"I don't—I've never done this." He looked from one face to the other, so alike, so attractive.

"Done what?"

"A threesome."

"Neither have I," Sara said, her tongue slightly thick with alcohol. "There's always a first time."

"Just go with it, Doc," Debbie told him, smiling wickedly. Sara knew without a doubt she had said those exact words before, and she supposed it should bother her, but her brain was buzzing with desire and it hurt to think. _Naked. I'm going to get naked with Grissom. Man of my dreams. We're all going to have sex. There is a God._ They walked into Debbie's bedroom. Every flat surface was decorated with a butterfly theme.

"I'm a butterfly, she's a butterfly, let's mate like butterflies," the nurse slurred.

Grissom opened his mouth. Sara knew he was going to start a lecture on the mating habits of Lepidoptera and she needed to act fast. So she stuck her tongue in his mouth and her hands down his pants and Grissom's mind went blank again.

Sara pulled away and kissed Debbie. And then they undressed each other as they made out. Grissom whipped off his pants and boxers. Bit by bit that perfect body was revealed to his eyes. And it was even better than he imagined, with a matching body to ogle too. His legs couldn't support himself suddenly. He sank into an armchair. Grissom took off his shirt and one palm ran up and down his chest while the other gripped and stroked his pulsing cock.

Sara was suckling Debbie's breasts. His breathing became ragged. Debbie sank to her knees and nipped on Sara's thighs. She opened them and straddled Debbie's face. And a pink tongue emerged and trailed up her glistening cleft. All three moaned with need. Her hands cupped Sara's hips, for support and to bring her sex even closer to her seeking mouth. That mouth went to work. Sucking, licking, nipping, kissing. Sara's hips jerked and her hands clutched at Debbie's head.

"Oh yes oh right there, harder baby, I'm so..."

There was nothing in the room, nothing in the world but Sara. And nothing would happen until Sara climaxed. He realized he was holding his breath, willing her to let go, to overtop and fall into that sweet abyss...and then she did. A rumbling groan that rose into a near-scream, her pelvis rocking, and Debbie was still sucking, prolonging the bliss.

Grissom was beyond aroused. _I just saw—and heard—Sara come._ _There is a God._

Sara pulled her lover to her feet and kissed her. Licked her own musky wetness off her mouth and chin. Sucked on her lips and tongue, thanking her. Sara broke off the lingering kiss and they eyed Grissom's naked aroused body hungrily. And then the girls moved toward him. They pulled him up and eased him on his back on the big bed. Lavished him with kisses and nips to his arms and chest. Sara sucked on his nipple and he moaned. Debbie took the left side; Sara took the right moving up, Debbie moving down. Her mouth closed around his weeping arousal. This was just too hot. He moaned but Sara placed her lips over his. _God I'm close._ He wanted to warn her, but one, two, three thrusts and he came in Debbie's mouth with a mighty groan.

She swallowed his semen and licked her lips and kissed him. Grissom rolled so that Sara was in the middle, and began exploring that sweet body with his mouth and hands. Debbie did the same, and they alternated sucking on her honeypot and nipples until she was writhing and thrashing and whimpering. Together they brought Sara to a second crashing orgasm.

Grissom eased his cock inside her after she rode it out. He watched her face as she climaxed again and then focused on him. He thrust into Sara slowly, the sensation mindblowing. _Sara. Sara. Sara._ The name was a beat in time with his thrusts. Debbie lay on her side and watched them, trailing a hand up and down his sweaty back. From time to time she kissed a body part or played with his balls. His hips pumped faster.

"Yes! Oh God Yes!"

Faster and faster and harder and then..._oh GOD that feels GOOD_...he spurted lengths of white ropy come inside Sara and it lasted an unbelievably long time. He pulled out and squirted some on her belly. Grissom collapsed. When his head stopped spinning he pulled out and rolled to one side. Debbie sucked off his come and kissed him. They nestled with Sara between them, sated and snuggling, and dozed off.

Grissom awoke within two hours, hard again. Debbie woke up at the same time and he pulled her atop him to straddle his hips. With one smooth motion she sank down until he impaled her. Debbie spread her arms and rode him languidly in a corkscrew motion. Sara turned his head and kissed him as they fucked. Her hand slid over and down his chest and abdomen and between their joined bodies, feeling his slick cock moving in and out of her lover. _Fuck this is intense._ Sara squeezed and stroked Debbie's clit, Grissom's mouth closed on her breast, Sara sucked on her tongue and throat until they brought her to the brink and over.

Grissom came for the third time in as many hours. He felt magnificent. He had made two beautiful women climax too, and the night wasn't over. _Sometimes it is good to be a man._

And they were all still turned on. This was the fulfillment of every fantasy. The climax of an orgasm after years of foreplay. They were safe and loved and free. Free as birds. Free from convention and rules and inhibitions, at least for one night. They took wing in a flock. It was all breasts and mouths and legs. Long legs, four smooth, two hairy. Something warm and wet was around his cock—a mouth, a pussy, did it matter? It was all hands and tongues and necks and sweat and skin. Rolling and tasting and feeling. Sticky body fluids from sweet release. Pumping hearts. Pleasing and pleasure.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

**ON BROKEN WINGS**

**CHAPTER SIX**

Grissom woke up with a pounding headache and a mouth full of rusty steel wool. Both women were sprawled on the bed with him. He urgently needed to pee and couldn't help disturbing them as he disentangled his limbs. Sara grumbled and rolled over, opened one eye, grimaced as if it hurt, and stuck her face in a pillow. Debbie stretched luxuriantly, smiled at him, then moved to take his warm spot and pull Sara closer.

He stumbled into the bathroom, peed, washed his face and hands, ran a finger around his teeth and looked around. _Jeez, this bathroom is huge!_ He looked at himself in the mirror and thought about the night before. _What the hell came over me? Sara, yeah, that was a long time coming, but it wasn't as I planned...Imagined...She deserves better...And Debbie, I just met her!_ _This isn't me._ _How am I going to face them? Work with Sara now? This is why I didn't..._Grissom suddenly felt dirty and disgusted with himself. He turned the shower on, hot, and scrubbed vigorously. His hips hurt—hell everything hurt. He was sore all over. There were hickies on his chest and shoulders, scratches on his back...he rinsed his hair with plain water and toweled off, put a dry one around his waist and padded back into the bedroom, awkwardly passing Debbie in the hallway and mumbling, "Morning." She gave him a knowing smirk and closed the bathroom door behind her.

He felt ashamed of his behavior and his middle aged body and wanted urgently to get dressed and get the hell out of there. Sara heard and felt him reenter the room and sat up on one elbow. She regarded him. Grissom pulled on his boxers and T-shirt and looked for the rest of his clothes. He didn't look at her. _Uh oh._

"Grissom?"

He grunted.

"Gris, come back to bed."

"Grissom." No response. "Gil."

That got him to raise his head at least, but his gaze darted in all directions. "Sara..." His voice was pained. He sighed, tried to say something, but couldn't.

"Come back to bed, sweetheart. Talk to me."

"Gotta go to work."

"I know when we go to work and it's not for hours yet." Sara said with exasperation. "Are you going to pretend nothing happened? You can't, you know. I was there. And if you run away now it will...it will break me." _My heart._ "Gil! Look at me! Can you do that at least?"

Grissom finally looked. She was nude, that incredible body only partly covered by a sheet. A breast was exposed and the curve of her hip beckoned him. He remembered the velvet of her skin and the blindingly pleasurable feeling of being inside her. He looked into her soft brown eyes. They were full of hurt. His eyes were caught in her sadness and he felt that inside. _I'm always hurting Sara. Why? Why do I hurt the one who loves me the most? We've finally had sex...and I'm still going to be a coward?_

So he sat on the side of the bed and tucked a curl of hair behind her ear.

"Hi."

The lines on her forehead smoothed and her lips curled in a sweet relieved smile.

"Good morning, Gil."

"Good morning." He kissed her forehead.

"Sara, I wanted our first time to be special. Not a hedonistic...orgy. It wasn't how I imagined it would be." 

"So you've imagined it, us?" she said flirtatiously.

He grinned sheepishly. "Yeah."

"How did you imagine it?"

He looked embarrassed, but she pressed on. "I imagined, you know, _dates._ Romantic dinners. Long walks. A goodnight kiss. And _then_ our first time."

"Do you think there will be a second time?"

"Yes! That is, I hope so."

"Oh, I know so. Hey, we can still do all that. Just backwards. At least now, we won't have all that unrelieved sexual tension. We can have fun." Sara took a breath and asked hesitantly, "Uh, how do you feel...about this? The three of us?"

"I don't know."

"Are you...having regrets?"

Silence.

"Gil, last night was amazing. You can't deny that." He made a quick nod. "I don't want it to be awkward between us, between any of us. And you and I will be working side by side. This is a beginning, not an ending. We were...I was drunk and horny but that's not an excuse...I wanted it, I wanted you, I always have. I know you are way out of your comfort zone now. I know that it was out of character for you—and me too—but I don't regret it." That got him to look at her and quirk a small smile. He squeezed her hand and she felt a surge of hope. Sara smiled that irresistible smile and he smiled back.

Sara gathered a sheet around herself and sat next to him.

"I know you are the kind of man who wouldn't share his body without some kind of emotional commitment."

"I'm not," he agreed in a small voice.

"So what about Debbie?"

"What about me?" Debbie Marlin came back and leaned up against the headboard. "Don't worry about me. It was just sex," she said, but there was something in her voice that made them both look at her

"No. No it wasn't. I'm a man, so seeing the two of you together, yes, it was such a turn on that I couldn't just sit there. But I don't sleep with anyone I don't care about. I see how you care for one another and it made me realize how much I miss that. The closeness, the intimacy..._and_ the sex!" That made Debbie smile at him. She stroked his arm and he touched her hair in an intimate gesture. Sara looked back at Debbie and they exchanged an affectionate smile.

"Ugh, my mouth smells like something died in there." Grissom and Debbie chuckled. "I'll be right back," she said. "Promise you won't go anywhere?"

"Promise."

Sara went into the bathroom. Feeling sticky and smelly, she took a shower and washed her hair, then put on one of Debbie's bathrobes and came back out.

Debbie and Grissom looked at each other, neither knowing what to say.

"Why don't I make us all some coffee." Debbie dropped her robe and put on a tank top and panties, and walked over to her dresser. Grissom couldn't avoid watching. She was sexy as hell and almost as pretty as Sara. He looked at the butterfly tattoo on her lower back and thought about the beauty of butterflies. She went to the kitchen as they dressed and started a big pot of coffee, got out tomato juice and poured three glasses, then made toast. Grissom and Sara came in and got their first mugs of coffee, ate and drank the hangover remedies, and swallowed some aspirin before anyone said anything

"How are you feeling?"

"Like shit. Head hurts. I've had hangovers, but this is something else again."

"Yeah, it is. My jaw hurts like I was grinding my teeth all night. Head feels like a pounding drum and I'm parched. But mostly I feel...off. Mixed up."

"Me too. And I know we had a lot of beer, but I've never felt like this."

"I'm sorry, Sara. Debbie, too."

"For what?" Now she was worried again.

"For a lot of things. I don't know what came over me last night."

"I do," Debbie said smoothly. They both looked at her with surprise. "I slipped you both a little extra in your beer."

"You WHAT?" they said in near unison.

"Hey, it was just a little E."

"E? You mean Ecstasy?" Sara was staring at her as if she were a stranger.

"You _drugged_ us?" Grissom was both angry and aghast.

Debbie Marlin held her hands up defensively, looking from one shocked face to one furious one. "I did you a favor! You, Sara! Ever since we started dating, you've been whining about Grissom and how much you want him...but he's so inhibited...so closed off emotionally...he doesn't know what to do. And then I met you, Gil, and I could feel the attraction, the heat, and see what you see in him, so I just...helped matters along, so to speak. Chemically."

"Debbie that is wrong on so many levels I don't know where to begin," Grissom stated, staring at her. Sara was speechless. His cell phone rang and he had to hunt it down, answering it on the last ring before it went to voice mail. There was his usual brief conversation as Sara's phone went off too.

"I'll be there in twenty." Grissom hung up. He exchanged a look with Sara.

"We have to go. Gil, I'm right behind you, okay?" He nodded and went out.

"Debbie, I don't have much time now, but we need to talk more about this."

Grissom walked out, so bewildered that he didn't notice the black Mercedes parked at the curb. Or the driver, staring at him with hatred. The car pulled out behind him.

**TBC**


	7. Chapter 7

**ON BROKEN WINGS**

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

"Debbie, I can't believe you use street drugs. You're a nurse for Chrissake! You should know better!"

"It's not like I'm smoking crack," she said angrily.

"How many ODs do you get a week?"

"You can't OD on Ecstasy."

"That isn't what I asked."

Sara's cell phone rang again.

"Sidle," she snapped, fuming.

"It's Grissom."

"Oh. Hi."

"I just caught a cab and realized you need a ride back to your car too. Do you want me to pick you up?"

Her voice calmed. "Riiight. I forgot that we cabbed it back here."

"Still feeling fuzzy-headed, huh? Like me?"

"Yeah. I am. Yeah, that'd be great, Gil, thanks."

"See ya in a few."

"Bye."

Sara snapped her phone shut and paced up and down, thinking hard. She felt good about the fact that Grissom was being so considerate, and even better that they seemed to have a real future at last, but was torn in her feelings about Debbie. They had enjoyed a great, hot, fun relationship up until now. But this was a serious breach of trust. _Did we even use protection?...what if I...what if she...oh help. This is so not me, to be so irresponsible...I'm a workaholic!_

Debbie Marlin just looked at her anxiously, in silence, hoping not to make things worse.

Sara took another deep gulp of coffee. "Did we even use condoms?" she said coldly.

"Um, no, we didn't."

"Great." Sara said sarcastically.

"I'm on the Pill."

"How nice for you. I'm not. And I don't think Gris and I are ready to be parents after just one night. Not to mention we're both law enforcement. If there's a random drug test that's it for our careers. Finito. We're done. Do you get that?"

"Yes," she said quietly. "I'm so sorry, Sara."

"Yeah, well, I'm not ready to say 'It's fine' just yet. I need to think." The CSI gathered up her things. "I'm going to wait outside."

"Sara, wait. Wait! I'm sorry!"

"No. I'll call you later." The door slammed.

The ominous black Mercedes followed Grissom's taxi to the bar and then his SUV back to Debbie's apartment. The driver parked at a distance to watch as it pulled to a stop and Sara hopped in. That they kissed briefly behind the tinted windows and talked for a moment made him even more enraged. _That bastard is kissing the woman I love._ Again the man trailed them, this time to the crime scene, but the sight of all the police cars and uniformed men around made him too nervous to stay.

It was the usual hard long bloody smelly slog at the scene. Followed by the usual 8+ hour shift. Gris and Sara had to put their thoughts aside and their needed conversation off until it was done and he was driving her home.

"She drugged us, Sara."

"I know."

"And it could have been cut with anything. We could have been seriously impaired today."

"I know."

"And then there's the legal aspect."

"I know."

"Stop saying that. Please."

"Sorry."

He glanced from the road at her. Even squinting, with her lips pursed, and drumming on the armrest annoyingly, she was beautiful. And that mind was a thing of wonder.

"Not to mention we didn't use any protection last night," Sara added.

"We didn't? Oh. Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I asked her."

"Shit."

"Shit is right."

"What are you going to do, Sara?"

"I could take a morning after pill."

He gulped. "You would? You will?"

"I don't know, Gris, there's so much to process," she said distractedly. "One thing at a time."

"Good point."

"But..."

"But what?"

"Excuse me, but last night you were all over her! And part of me is siding with her, because I care about her. Part of me is grateful for what she did."

"What? You _are?_" Grissom sputtered.

"I am. She was right, that you needed a push. She was right, that you needed something to let down those damn inhibitions of yours."

"So you had to trick me to get me into bed?"

"I wouldn't! I didn't!" she yelled. "But how long were you going to wait? To string me along?"

Grissom glowered but couldn't come up with a response.

"There it is. The elephant in the room. Elephant, I'd like you to meet Gil Grissom. Grissom, this is Mr. Elephant."

"Very funny," he snapped, but then couldn't help it as a small grin appeared. It was a relief to have this in the open at last.

"You're right," he said finally.

Sara smiled. "Thanks."

"I'm sorry. I apologize for...playing with your feelings...as I have."

He was rewarded with a big Sidle grin and bright brown eyes. "I've been waiting a long time to hear that." She kissed him on the cheek and he crinkled his eyes at her.

"I, uh, didn't mean that, necessarily. I meant, what are you going to do about Debbie?"

"And me, you mean?" Their eyes met. He nodded. "You want me to break it off." She sighed.

He grimaced but said nothing.

"I can't just turn my feelings on and off. You know this."

Grissom squeezed her hand and smiled crookedly at her. Sara smiled back and said softly, "I guess you know that better than anyone. I think I...and yes, we...need another night together. I just need that. Do you?"

He was lost in thought, examining his feelings. "Maybe. I'm not a one night stand kind of guy."

"Yeah. You're not. It's just...I do care about her. She's been good...to me...for me."

"Okay, honey. I do have feelings for her too. One more night." There was a pause.

"Do you love her, Sara?"

"Not like I love you." _Whoops! I didn't mean for that to slip out._

There was an awkward silence. Sara held her breath. Grissom whipped the car to the side of the road and braked. She squeaked in surprise. He pulled her by the shoulders into a passionate kiss.

"I love you too."

**TBC**

**A/N**: I am enjoying each and every of your reviews as always. Please keep it up! So sorry I've gotten behind on answering them all. If I didn't have 4 stories in progress, yikes, I maybe would do better. Bear with us as we know the destination but the road is winding all around.

Rage took a nasty fall and is banged up. Please send him a note? (that's rage edit with a period in the middle). And look see if you'd like to review one of his stories? He doesn't have my fan club yet (LOL) and as his beta and friend I'd like to see his talent appreciated. Thanks. There are some of you that are as faithful as the tides: BillyJorja, toothchick, CSIfan8686, GSRCSILVR25, caz1969, gsrfan34...and more, all of you...luv ya. Wander52, welcome to the party, hope you feel better. And SweetSouthernComfort and HeartsandEyesDelight? You make me laugh. Hey go read their stories. They're better than mine.

You all rock. And roll. And rock some more!


	8. Chapter 8

**ON BROKEN WINGS**

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

The closer the time got to their "date" the more nervous Grissom became. Sweat was pooling in his pits, soaking in his crotch, and trickling through the beard on his ...well, what was admittedly the beginning of a double chin, no matter what the beard concealed.

Air conditioning was only good for so long. Let's face it, it averages 110º F. a day in this funny little slice of hell, thank you very much. And no matter how many times people say "_It's a dry heat," _heat is fucking heat, after all. Las Vegas is hot, sweat-producing hot. All the time that the hot sun is up anyway hot. HOT. Which was a very good thing about working nights.

But Grissom's flop sweat was more than usual from feeling, what, obligated? Expected? _To bang the girlfriend of my girlfriend. While said girlfriend is in the same bed. With me. And her girlfriend. Uh, what? Come again?_

He was eight kinds of genius, but explaining that to a third party (fourth?) would leave his tongue in knots. So the air was blasting in his face and he was regretting not bringing another shirt-but who knows how long I'm supposed to keep it on...Wait. What am I, a seraglio...what am I, a gigolo? Huh.

**At your service. 50ish, blue-eyed, geeky entomologist, sexual services cheerfully provided. He's a stud, ladies! Tolerance of decomp and sweat smell a must! Will do your girlfriend too, for no extra charge!**

The setting sun was burning his eyes. Worsening his mood. Which was in the basement already. _I'm tired._ It wasn't a migraine, but the pain just behind his eyeballs was not helping with the mood cocktail.

"Another fucking red light. And eight busloads of tourists. Hi, welcome to Vegas! Fuck you very much! Go have violent sex with yourself, okay? Thanks."

"Jesus, Mr. and Mrs. Dirty Whity Tighty T-shirt—get outta the road, already? Thanks for visiting greater metropolitan Las Vegas. Try not to get murdered on your way back to Bird Cage, North Carolina. Please. I'd like to have sex today. Buh bye. Move along. MOVE it."

_Shit. I crack myself up sometimes._

_Wow we are getting desperate now. Okay, let's review. Insert penis in hole, push in, pull out, lather, rinse, repeat. Got it. This will please Sara. I will do anything for Sara. Anything she asks. Promise._

_I want to be with Sara._

_In order to be with Sara I will have hot sex with Debbie._

_Sara wants to be with Debbie. And me. And both of us. I want to do what Sara wants. So she wants me. Wants Debbie. More than me? More than her? Less than she does? Is this a competition, or another really really __REALLY __good time?_

_It's all very confusing._

_Debbie wants to be with Sara. And me? She did seem "enthusiastic" last time. Sucked my cock good. _

_Good God, Gilbert, you have a Ph.D. And 'sucked my cock good' is the best way to express that particular review? Huh._

"Okay. Here's her street. Trees, little brick houses-is that it? Yeah."

_Well. Here goes nothing. Good. Thank God. Sara's here._

The screen door was open, and he was clearly expected. Sara looked tense. She was looking away.

"Hi."

"Gil!" Sara leapt up and embraced him. Debbie stood too, hung back, and smiled shyly.

"Hi, Debbie."

He got that out just before Sara gave him a hearty kiss. And a really nice hug. It felt good, hugging her. Grissom hoped he didn't smell too bad for her. But she was used to much worse, right?

_Kiss her, you fool._ _Stop thinking for once in your pitiful life!_

_I can do that._

They were both buzzed from being allowed to kiss each other at will. Blown away. It was an amazing gift. And a helluva lot of fun.

After, they all sat on the edges of too big sofas and looked at each other, not knowing how to start. _So, what time do I get to do you? Blowjob at 11? Stay tuned._

_Damn she does have some nice tits, though. Ass, too. _

"How are you, Grissom?" the nurse asked in a friendly way.

"Fine. Uh. I like your toes." I like your toes! _Wow that was smooth, Romeo. Here in my own harem of young slender sexy ladies. WTF is wrong with me? I like your toes._

Meanwhile both his harem girls were laughing prettily at him.

_Damn I'm sweaty. I don't smell so great. _

"Um, thanks?" She looked at Sara. "I think?" So they snorted and snickered and chortled at the entomologist's expense. _Hi, my name is Gil and I'm a geek. It __was __pretty funny though. Who can frown at those laughing pretty faces?_

He grinned a true Grissom grin.

"Would you like a glass of wine?" Debbie sputtered out at last.

"LOVE one." Grissom answered, so desperately, that both women crooked a narrow arched eyebrow in his direction.

Gil snorted and burst out laughing in his turn. "It's just..." He could barely get the words out in a laughter born of hysterics. "It's just...You look like twins. You know, Gemini. Siamese twins. Romulus and Remus...identical twins...Did you know the origin of...?" Now _he_ was babbling. Babbling a rain of words to get Debbie out of the room and not start a fight so he could kiss Sara again.

"Why don't I get us that wine." Miss Marlin gave him a strange look.

"Nothing added I hope? Chemically?" he said, too loudly.

Everyone laughed nervously.

"No," she chirped. "It's pure, unadulterated, wine. From the vine to the grape to the bottle. And vat, I guess. Barrel. I'll let you open the bottle, okay?" She stumbled in haste to get into the kitchen. _Awkward. _

Another nervous chuckle.

So he kissed Sara again. That was easy. That was much easier than talking. Or thinking. And Sara kissed him. Once in awhile they kissed each other. It was nice. It was very nice. But there was this "other woman" in the room. Hot, admittedly, sexy, nice tits and all. But not Sara. And she wanted to get in on it. Nothing wrong with that, right? And it was her house. Her bed. And sharing her bed was not really what he wanted, but it had been planned, scheduled, for this evening's entertainment.

It was all very confusing.

They seemed to be nailed to the floor, all of them. Like giant hands were pressing down on their shoulders. Deux et machina. They couldn't have left if they tried.

And it was getting hot. Deb had nice hands. "Nice! Uh! Uh! Lower. Right uh. There. You're good at that."

_The taste of Sara's lips is sweeter than any wine. And I could become intoxicated with looking into those soft brown, like, what, soft doe leather brown? No there's gold in the 'em too. Such beauty. Such beautiful beauty._

"You have beautiful eyes, Sara."

"Mm. Gil?"

"Gil?"

"Uh, hmmm...what, dear?"

"You don't need to wear a condom." Sara blurted. She gulped. He gulped. Even Debbie gulped. That cut through his engorged mind. He pulled back and looked at Sara. She bit her lip and twisted the hem of her shirt, suddenly mortified.

"You sure? Really sure, honey?"

"Yeah. Yes, Gris...Gil. I've never wanted a baby, very much anyway and not that I'm maternal or not or anything or good with kids but I mean I'd like I would..."

"Sara."

"want you to be the father. If anyone. I want you to be him...my baby's father..."

"_Sara_."

"Huh?"

"You're babbling." They all laughed.

"I am, aren't I." Sara grinned. And the tension was gone. _She wants me to be? Really?_

And then there were just lips. Tongues, too. Three, to be precise. _I've forgotten how much fun it is to kiss. Just to kiss._

Kiss

Kiss

"I mean that." It was getting harder to think. All that sexual energy dammed up, tons and tons of it toppling a dyke, an avalanche, and yes there was enough left over for Marlin too. Plenty left over. Yes, she was welcome to the party. Yup. Then Debbie Marlin worshiped both their bodies. Volunteered to disrobe them all. Slowly. That was nice. Sara was thanking her. With her mouth. Which freed him to explore that nape, move that knee...suck on that enchanting neck. _Yes. She likes that, eh? Your ear, dear?_

"_Gil." She was panting and sweat and skin such smooth soft skin and she's saying your name..._

So sweet. _God she is sweet._

"Sweet," he mumbled. "Sweet Sara...I've wanted to tell you that. Forever."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"Gris?"

"Mmm?"

"Do you always talk this much?"

"Nope. Got it. Shut up and kiss Sara. I can..." peck "do" peck "that."

He could feel her smile under his lips. He wanted to bottle that smile and put it in a jar. Like a jar of fireflies.

"You have beautiful eyes, Gil."

"Thanks. You're a firefly."

"I'm a butterfly."

"I'm a dragonfly."

"Good one."

"Yeah."

"We are. Good.. Mmm."

And suddenly things became more...urgent...primal. Pound Pound Pound Pound. Energetic. Athletic, briefly anyway.

"GIIILLLLL Yes that! feels so good baby syyyeess god yes! GOD YES baby! Yes that!

And then he was falling and falling and it was Sara, it was Sara it was her warm womanly goodness that was catching that was catching him and his body was sliding into her so wet and she was she was safe and she was warm and he was safe and he was warm so warm and wonderful and oh god sara oh god good soo ggggoooooooooddddddd...

Pant. Pant. Pant. Sweat, drip. Drip. More. More, more sweat, but good

GGoooooggoooooggooooddddd...

Gil.

Gil/

Oh! Oh! ...!

com CUM for me Cum for me _CUM _ that s it oh yes yeesss.

Yes.

Whew.

Whew.

Kiss

Kiss

Kiss

Roll to the side. "Can you move your? Yeah. Thanks."

Okay.

_Sweet._

_ Sweet Jesus Sara._

Whew.

What?

"What?"

Whoa.

_Oh. What's this, what's going on? Deb. Uh, Deb...I, I can't yet. It's too soon, uh I need more time. To recover. I'm an old guy. No. Wait!_

"Um, let's slow down?"

"Slow down...yeah...that's it...that's it Deb..."

"Condom. Stop. Wait, uh, lemme get a condom."

A lot of fumbling. Getting out of bed and overly conscious of that half hard thing down there. OW! Why are these so hard to open? Seriously? And then the condom was finally in place. _Christ I hate condoms. _

There was a wet noodle between his legs. Limp dick. _No! Not now!_

_Fuck._

_Fuck. I can't get it up._

"It's okay. It"

_No. Don't say it._

"Happens all the"

Don't.

"time."

"Don't worry..."

_Do not say that. Not helping here._

"To every guy."

_Fuck. I can't. Jesus._

_Fuck. All the fucking times you fucking get HARD at the WRONG time in front of EVERYONE in front of a CORPSE for Crissake just because Sara tossed her HAIR back and licked her pink lips! Or Sara's in that JUMPSUIT and all I can think is She's NAKED under there. Zip. Fuck. Fuck that pussy. Right under that zipper. Zip. Zip (mine) = Zipless fuck. So then the only way I could make it go DOWN was to think of shit. Literally. Feces. Scat. Shit. The only way to lose the BONER for three fucking hours was to act like an ASSHOLE I had to GLARE at her! as if I was furious and she'd get that sad Sara look! Asshole. That. Hurt. Puppy dog eyes. So NOW,when in front of the star of those interior porn flicks is right there, looking at you with pity? NOW you fucking CAN'T GET HARD? Shit. GODDAMN it. Lemme just. Rub. Myself. Aagh. Don't look at me. Don't. Look. At. Me. Shit. This is the fucking worst. NO! Uh don't suck—wouldn't help in this situation, trust me on this. I'm I think I'm fucked out._

"Oh. Oh?"

"Oh, Sara. Yes. Yes, right there. Yes, thank you. Thank you. God."

"Mmm, you feel good, too, Debbie, sorry."

"Am I hurting you?"

_OK. Think about Sara. Look at her. Touch her. And get this. Get me some of this. MMM. Good. Yeah. Yeah, baby. Rock your world._

Him grunting. Her moaning, but not quite authentic. All knew that. All. Another and then, yeah baby yeah baby yeah. YEAH! Touchdown! Home run!

He rolled to the side.

"You okay?"

"Great." Her voice was too high, too bright. Sara looked sad. And kind of sorry for her. And Grissom. Both of them.

"Great. Uh. Lemme just get this...this rubber off. There. Phew." He tossed it up and backwards, random, just get the damn thing and its little puddle of DNA away.

Snuggle. Whew.

_Can I go to sleep now? _

_Would that be rude? _

_Fuck it. I'm going to sleep. _

**TBC**


	9. Chapter 9

**ON BROKEN WINGS**

**CHAPTER NINE**

Debbie Marlin awoke first to find both her naked lovers deeply asleep. Grissom was next to her, so she started stroking his penis and smiled as it hardened under her expert touch. When it was firm and erect, Debbie bent and took him in her mouth, sucking and slurping. Grissom moaned and murmured Sara's name in his sleep. His delicious dream seemed to be coming true as he slowly regained consciousness.

"Mmm, Sara, feels so good baby." His hips rocked and thrust up gently. Debbie swirled her tongue around the head of his cock. That woke him completely.

"Sara...Hey! No! Get off me."

Debbie kept bobbing her head between his legs.

"Stop! I said No!" Gris pulled her roughly off himself and pushed her away angrily.

"What's wrong, stud? I got you hard at least," Debbie said sarcastically.

"I don't want you." Anger, jealousy, humiliation, resentment, testosterone, and all that bubbled over in a vicious stew.

"I've had better," Debbie said bitingly. Her own possessiveness and jealousy were fired up and exploding.

"You and I are done, got it?" Grissom's voice rose, fully waking Sara, who jumped out of bed and dashed into the bathroom.

"Your dick wants me..."

"I'm not accountable when I'm asleep and being_ molested_..."

"What about awake? Can you get it up?"

"Shut up!"

"Make me!"

"Slut!" The argument deteriorated rapidly.

""Limp dick!"

"Bitch!"

"Asshole!"

"Get away from me!"

"You're in my house! YOU get out!"

Now they were standing, the bed between them, yelling loudly. Sara came back in the room, looking frightened.

"Wait, stop it! Don't do this, please!" Sara shouted with desperation. Seeing and hearing a couple's fight was starting to make her deeply afraid and anxious.

"Stay out of this, honey." Grissom barked.

"Yeah, we need to settle this," Debbie snapped.

Both were glaring at each other and breathing hard.

"Sara is _my_ girlfriend," Debbie said angrily.

"That's not what she said," he retorted.

"Oh?" Marlin said with exaggerated politeness. "Is this true, Sara?" Sidle's mouth was open as she struggled to speak.

"I think you better choose."

"No! No, no, no, I won't get in the middle of this..." her voice was strained.

"I'm not going to fuck you just because she wants me to!" Grissom got even louder, his face moving closer to Marlin's.

"It's me she wants anyway!" shouted Debbie.

"No! She was lonely! You've been nothing but trouble since day one...taking advantage of Sara..."

"Fuck you." Debbie turned and picked up the first thing at hand, a cellphone, and pitched it at him, narrowly missing Grissom's head. He retaliated with a glass butterfly that cracked and broke against the wall behind Debbie.

"Fuck you!" More objects flew. Some of them shattered and one hit a mirror. Shards of glass littered the bedroom floor.

"I'm gonna_ Kill_ you, bitch..." Grissom started toward her, his face contorted. Barefoot, he stepped on broken glass and barely felt it puncture his heel, intent on pushing Debbie out of the room. Or just getting her to shut the fuck up. He felt a rage as never before and lashed out.

They shoved each other and Debbie scratched his face. With his last shred of restraint, Grissom barely stopped himself from hitting her, instead gripping her arms with fingers like pincers.

"I've never hit a woman, but by Christ! I could fucking kill you!"

"Coward! Pervert! Bring it on."

"NO! Don't, STOP!" Sara's voice rose to a near shriek. Her face got white and her eyes wide with fear. She was trembling as she rushed from the room.

Both Grissom and Debbie rushed after her, practically competing to be the first to comfort her.

"Let go of me! Let me out!" Sara screamed. She swatted their hands away and fled.

Sara had the clear advantage of being fully dressed. She scooped up her purse and keys and ran out. She was in her car and speeding away before Grissom or Debbie could get themselves together, Grissom's bleeding feet making him slip. Debbie tripped over an extension cord and landed heavily, cutting her hand.

He shouted after her fruitlessly. Grissom slammed the door, again not seeing the dark Mercedes in the shade down the street.

A neighbor pretended to be gardening as he watched the whole exchange, taking careful mental notes of Grissom's appearance, his vehicle, its license plate, and the words of the heated argument. Mr. Fike went back inside to take notes.

The heat of the argument bled away as both became intent of getting dressed, getting the hell out of there, and going after Sara Sidle. They fumed in silence, feeling guilty for reminding Sara of traumatic memories and being so immature. They knew a single word would set them off again. Neither would budge an inch. This was the most important thing in their lives. And this was the moment of crisis.

Debbie Marlin's phone rang. As she went to answer it, Gil Grissom slipped out of the back door and drove away.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

**ON BROKEN WINGS**

**CHAPTER TEN**

Sara drove aimlessly for what could have been hours, circling blocks, then finding an old disused winding highway that led to bare empty desert. She stomped on the gas and opened all the windows, imagining these flashbacks to the violent death of her father flying out of her head and away. _If I drive fast enough—far enough—maybe they won't be able to find their way back. Maybe I can sleep, at last, in peace. Maybe. Huh. Maybe not._

As if in a bad movie, a dive bar appeared in the distance. Sara felt compelled to stop, to pull herself together at least. Her long fingers trembled as she turned off the engine and stepped out. She pushed her sunglasses up and stood for a full three minutes after the door swung shut to be able to walk another step inside without tripping. It was as dark as a cave in contrast to the unforgiving Nevada sun outside.

When she could see again, she looked around the bar. Heads of dead animals on the walls. Check. Stale cigarette smoke. Check. Neon beer signs the brightest light. Check. Beefy guy behind the bar. I bet his name is...Lou.

"Hey, sweety, what can I getcha?" the barkeep called out.

"Hi, Lou." Sara bit the inside of her cheek when he shook his head in surprise and looked at her closer.

"How'd you know my name? I know you?"

"A little." A smile flashed. "Gimme a Heinekin? And a shot of Jack? I'll be right out."

"You got it, doll face."

Sara smoothed her wind-tossed hair with water and splashed some of the desert dust off of her skin. She made small talk with Lou, politely refused drink offers from the other three men present, drank two shots and the beer, ate a small bag of pretzels, and felt much better. Lou was asking for her phone number when she walked out, laughing kindly. She didn't take off her sunglasses the whole time at the bar and felt confident and mysterious. The drive back to Vegas was much calmer and her nerves were steadier than they'd been since this whole love triangle thing started.

_What to do, though? Choose. I gotta choose. She's right._

_It's Grissom. It's always been Grissom. I'm sorry Deb. I bet you won't be surprised, but I hate breaking up. I hate hurting feelings. Having been on the receiving end, that's why. And it makes me feel guilty. _She sighed._ Better get it over with. Grissom will be a bear at work unless...and I can't avoid him. I have a future with him. I hope. If I haven't soured it with him as well. We need to talk._

She drove back to Debbie's neighborhood.

"HEY! Look out!" Sara yelled out, frightened, when a speeding black Mercedes narrowly missed her, veering wildly all over Deb's street. She glanced back and caught a glimpse of the man driving. "Asshole."

Debbie's red BMW convertible was still in the driveway. Grissom's SUV was gone. Sara pulled up to the curb and gave herself a fervent pep talk. _You can do this. You can do this, Sidle. You can be kind, but firm. End it without hard feelings—like yanking off a band-aid. Sidles don't just slink away. Sidles are honest._

Grissom started to drive toward Sara's apartment complex, but felt warm blood pooling inside his shoe. His foot was throbbing. He had yanked out the shard of glass in haste as he dressed, but just put a sock on and hoped it would stop bleeding. No way would he ask that bitch for anything, not even a band-aid. Reluctantly, Grissom parked at an ER clinic, explained his injury at the desk, and sat down to wait. No one seemed in any hurry to see him.

Sara's senses felt alarmed even before she crossed Debbie Marlin's threshold. Something was off. It felt...it felt like someone was home, but no one was home. _That doesn't make any sense. _The door was ajar. Sara grasped automatically for her holster, finding air just as she pictured her service revolver in the gun locker. _Is anyone here?_ The front room was still trashed. She stepped cautiously forward. _Signs of struggle_. A metallic smell—a smell of iron. _Oh God no._ An unnatural stillness. _No._ Bloody footprints. _Stop! Don't contaminate...sweet Jesus, is this a crime scene? It is! _ Arterial spray with smears on the bedroom wall. A blood trail to the bathroom. _Who. Who is it? Whose body is in the bathroom?_

Grissom winced and groaned as the doctor stuck needles full of Novocain into his foot. _Fuck that hurts. Worse than the stitches._ But when the doctor kept probing his wound, searching for tiny shards, Gris changed his mind. Numb, there was a morbid fascination with watching the probe tip disappear in his heel and poke around. It would have been agony without. The doc peered closely, flushed the wound repeatedly, then pronounced it ready for stitching. Three sutures, a tetanus shot, a thick wad of bandages around his foot and a scrip for antibiotics later, and Gil was free to go. A nurse gave him an oversize footie to wear over the bandages and he limped back to his SUV, carrying his other shoe.

Barely breathing, her face a mask of horror, Sara side-stepped into the white bathroom while hugging the walls. There was a scream climbing hand over prickly hand up from her lungs to her mouth. It burst out and echoed around the shower walls when she finally saw the body of her lover on the white floor. Red blood had pooled stickily on the white tiles. She screamed again, louder. When the last of that piercing noise had died away, Sara crouched into a ball, hugging her knees, and rocking slightly. She stared for a long time at the face staring back at her. Remembering the first time they met and looked into a mirror together. Her face, her eyes looking into hers, with a grotesque red slashes across the neck, the cuts deep and bloody. The flashbacks appeared_. Dad. On the floor. Mom with the bloody knife...No!.. I'm looking at my own dead body? I'm dead? No! That's not right. It's Debbie, it's now...it's me...she looks like a dead bird. A bird with broken wings..._

"Pull yourself together," she ordered herself harshly. "This is not the time to go off the deep end. Debbie's dead. Murdered. She deserves to have her death investigated professionally, and the killer caught." A horrible thought pushed itself inside her head. _Deb and Grissom were fighting, just hours ago. Screaming, struggling, hitting, throwing shit at each other. Grissom said...he said he wanted to kill...oh Lord, could he have done this? Killed her? Why? Over me?"_

_ Who else could have killed her?_

"Dispatch, this is CSI Sidle." She tried to make her voice steady, but it wavered with emotion as she stammered. "I need to...I'm reporting...I need help...at this location."

**TBC**


	11. Chapter 11

**ON BROKEN WINGS**

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

Sara's private world was shattered when the first squad car showed up, siren blaring and lights flashing. Then another. Then an SUV delivered a pair of CSIs, dayshift guys she barely knew. Two police officers walked past her to secure the scene and put up crime tape. Sara drew a deep breath of relief when she recognized the detective in charge, Lou Vartann. They had worked together plenty of times and he was a shrewd, dedicated, and unflappable detective. And in this horror, a familiar face was very welcome.

"Sidle?" he said as he walked quickly to her. "I didn't expect to see you here. Isn't this a dayshift case?"

"Vartann, hello. Yes, it is. I was first...I was the one who discovered the body."

Vartann gave her a curious look but didn't comment. He flipped open his notebook and dug out a pen.

"Why don't we start at the beginning, Sara."

"Why don't we," she agreed with a tired smile.

"You said you were the first one here. Were you responding to a call?"

"No, I found the victim. I made the call."

"And who's the victim?" Vartann asked, scribbling away.

"Her name is Debbie Marlin."

"And this is her house?"

"Yes."

"Then why were you here?"

"I, uh, knew the victim."

"And who is this Debbie Marlin?"

"She's a nurse at Desert Palms."

"Why were you here?"

"To talk to Debbie."

"How did you know the victim?"

"Uh..." she trailed off and stopped.

"Sara, I need to know."

"I realize that, Detective," Sara said with a touch of defensiveness.

"Was she a witness? A suspect? Someone involved in a case?"

"No, no."

"Then who was she?"

"She...it's personal."

"Sara, there's a homicide victim in there. She was cut up pretty bad. There is no personal information anymore, you know this. We need to find out everything we can to put away the guy that did this."

"I know," Sara said with feeling. _But what if it's Grissom?_

"It's all going to come out eventually," Vartann looked at her sympathetically. _No reason to be hard on Sidle. We're on the same side_. "Okay, let's try this. What time did you arrive?"

Sara glanced at her watch. "At about 3 PM."

"What did you see when you arrived?"

"I saw Debbie's car out front." Sara gestured at the red BMW. "The door was ajar. I called and knocked but there was no answer. I entered the front door."

"What did you see?"

"The front room is trashed. I saw some blood...and I went into the bedroom. There was castoff on the walls."

"So you knew where the bedroom was?" he said with a penetrating look.

"Yes, uh...yes, I did."

"Ohhkay. What next?"

"I followed a blood trail...to the bathroom. I discovered the body curled up on the floor in the shower stall, with her face turned to me."

One of the CSIs came out at that moment and spoke to Vartann. Sara could make out a few words. _Fingerprints. Bloody footprints. Used condoms. Evidence of sexual activity. _The lean detective indicated that the red BMW convertible on the curb belonged to the dead woman, and the CSI nodded, looked at Sara curiously, nodded formally, and walked back inside.

"So then what?" Vartann asked.

"I called it in." Sara folded her arms.

Meanwhile Grissom went home briefly for a shower and a change of clothes. It took some time to wrap his bandaged foot in a plastic bag, and it was awkward to try to keep it out of the spray, but he felt better afterwards. He thought about grabbing a few hours sleep, but knew he was too wired to do anything but lie there and think about that romp in the sheets, and how angry he was with Debbie Marlin, and how much he wanted to see and talk to Sara. The best opportunity to do that was at work, he mused. So he toweled off and started to dress.

Grissom caught himself humming as he pulled on a crisp clean shirt and a freshly ironed pair of pants. It took some tugging to fit the pants leg over the bulky bandage. Even if the morning had been angry and chaotic, it felt good to have had sex again, after a celibate drought that would have killed a camel. _The sex was incredible. Debbie is bad news, but that will work itself out._ He ate some toast and yogurt and drank three cups of coffee while ignoring the blinking red light on his answering machine. His cell phone had been off all night and he didn't turn on the television or the radio.

Even though it was painful to walk on his cut foot, Grissom arrived at the crime lab in a cheerful mood. On the drive to work, he thought idly of how to explain his injury to his nosy colleague Catherine, and if anyone would pick up on the difference in his relationship to Sara. He wondered whether he should broach the subject with the sheriff before the rumor mill did any damage to his–and certainly her–reputation. And as he parked his car and locked it, he decided to spend the shift in his office and let the others go in the field. And keep off the foot and out of trouble. Maybe he could page Sara and have a needed conversation with the door closed. Maybe they could even sneak out to breakfast.

"Hello, Judy. Any messages?" Grissom said by habit. She looked up quickly, paled with fear, and shoved a thick wad of paper slips into his hand wordlessly. He shoved them in his back pocket without a glance _Wonder what's wrong with her._

The supervisor of the nightshift limped down the familiar hallway to his office. But not much else seemed familiar. There were groups of lab techs–some he didn't recognize–having hurried conversations in low tones. When he was spotted all talk ceased immediately. And everyone's heads turned to watch him go by. It was with an intense feeling of self-consciousness that he turned the final corner to his refuge, his office. And here he had an unpleasant shock. Two police officers stood at the doorway, blocking it. They were gripping their gunbelts and looking fierce. One of the cops was a muscular black man he'd seen before, but could not name. The other was Officer Fromansky.

_Oh shit. What's he doing here?_ Grissom felt dread and disbelief as their eyes met.

Fromansky had been investigated by CSI Gil Grissom and Capt. Jim Brass when his shield turned up at the house of two serial killers. A couple that had been murdered while a warrant was slow to be issued to search their house. Fromansky took an instant dislike to Grissom, insulted him, and threatened to let him get in harm's way if he ever needed a police backup. If that wasn't bad enough, a few months later there was a gunfight at a supermarket. The exchange of bullets killed a rookie cop, two robbers, and two innocent people. Fromansky was in the thick of it. One of his bullets killed a civilian. There was very bad blood between them.

"Gilbert Grissom. You're under arrest for the murder of Debbie Marlin." Fromansky said with a sneer. His nemesis grabbed his arm, turned him, and snapped a handcuff on his wrist in one practiced motion. Grissom was too stunned to react or speak. The metal bit into his other wrist and tightened. Already his shoulders were protesting the unnatural position. And his nightmare was just beginning.

**TBC**


	12. Chapter 12

**ON BROKEN WINGS**

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

_Wait. What? Debbie Marlin was murdered? What? When? Who killed her?_

_Numb. Try to be numb_, Grissom told himself. But it wasn't working. His pride was hurting. His body was contorted painfully. He felt humiliated, angry, helpless. Bound. He was able to keep his face perfectly impassive, but that was from years of practice. Inside, his emotions were churning.

One minute ago he was the respected authority, the supervisor of the grave shift, the boss of everyone around him. The next? He's handcuffed and led through the hallways like the lowest common criminal! And it would _have_ to be Fromansky. The bully with the badge. The one who would abuse his authority in a heartbeat to cover his own ass. Who knew nothing, cared nothing, about scientific methods and forensics and CSIs. Just busting heads and nursing grudges. Of course Fromansky took delight in making a spectacle of him, walking slowly past every lab and reciting his Miranda rights so loudly they could probably hear him in the morgue, Grissom thought bitterly.

His career was over. It didn't matter if he was exonerated later–_no, when he was exonerated,_ he chided himself–once he was arrested and booked, his job was terminated. He remembered when Nick was involved in the murder of that hooker...wait. Wait. His team was given 24 hours to exonerate him, and Catherine did so and saved Nick's job. _What's the big rush?_ Where was his chance to defend himself, to assemble the facts and plead his case, establish an alibi at least, before being arrested? Why wasn't he given the right to rebut the accusations? Where was his representation? _I just saw Debbie, what, eight hours ago. She was alive then. She probably hasn't even been autopsied yet!_ He hadn't even been questioned. None of the evidence could possibly have been fully processed. And what evidence anyway?

Fromansky threw him in the back of a squad car, not caring that he cracked his forehead on the car door. They drove the short distance to the LVPD and then Grissom was led inside. There was a wait until the desk sergeant at Central Booking was available. Grissom decided this was his only opportunity to appeal to the man. As one man to another. As one member of law enforcement to another.

"Officer Fromansky?" He was acknowledged with a grunt and a cold stare.

"Remember those two times I had to investigate you?"

"Yeah?" the cop smirked at him.

"I exonerated you. Both times. In fact you were given a commendation for your heroics in that supermarket, weren't you?"

No answer, but Grissom could see that the officer was thinking.

"I followed the evidence. It led to you, and then it led away. Your record reflected that your actions were justified. The evidence in the first case was planted. Both of the investigations proved your innocence. You didn't lose your job, did you?"

"No," Fromansky said reluctantly.

"If you book me, in the next few minutes, I'll lose mine. I'll lose my whole career." Grissom looked at him steadily, challenging him to do the same. Not begging, not bargaining, just stating the facts. And giving him the chance to do the right thing.

Fromansky dropped his eyes. He licked his lips uncertainly. Grissom held his breath. The truth was he hadn't been told to arrest Grissom. Just bring him in for questioning. Once they saw each other, though, he couldn't resist his moment of revenge. If he went through with this, his superiors would have his ass.

"Okay. Let's get you to interrogation. Get one of you CSI guys to process you." The police officer took his elbow and led him down the hallway. Grissom felt a great wave of relief. He was led to an empty interrogation room. Fromansky unlocked the handcuffs and left. Grissom rubbed his wrists. He sighed and felt the new bump on his forehead gingerly. There was a trace of blood. He wet the corner of his pocket handkerchief and cleaned that up.

Grissom sat in the empty room thinking hard. Yes, he'd had sex with Debbie. So there would be evidence of that. And Sara, too..._but I'm not going to implicate her...I'm not going to drag her down_. _If possible I won't reveal that I had sex with her too_.

Yes, he and Debbie Marlin had a heated argument just hours ago. Stuff was thrown, they had both had been injured, he'd shoved and insulted her...even threatened to hit and kill her...But she was alive when he left! Who killed her?

_Could it have been...Sara? No! No. Sara couldn't, would_ _never_ _hurt, let alone kill anyone!_ But her mother stabbed her father to death, an evil voice reminded him. _NO! Sara said she could never take a life._ _After that case with the dead airline passenger. Sara is the most gentle, the most compassionate person I know. Have ever met!_

"Do you think there's a murder gene?_" _Sara's emotional, troubled voice echoed in his head.

Do I? I told her I didn't. At the time I only wanted to comfort Sara, not put doubts in her mind. But the truth is there is that connection between the "warrior gene" MAO-A, and violent aggressive behavior. Hell, before this morning, I didn't think I was capable of that kind of rage! Everyone has a breaking point, a point of no return, when the primal violent animal rage is released. When the dragon is unleashed. The naked ape that we all are inside is revealed.

Grissom became lost in his thoughts, waiting for his interrogators.

After an age, the door opened. Grissom's face cleared when Detective Lou Vartann entered the room. Their eyes met and acknowledged each other. He looked sympathetic. But right on his heels came Conrad Ecklie. _Fuck. This day gets better._

Ecklie's trademark smirk was firmly in place. He clunked down a mug of coffee, braced his arms on the table, and loomed over the seated man and glared at him. _If you think that's going to intimidate me, think again,_ Grissom thought grimly, staring back without hesitation or nervousness.

"I guess you know why you're here."

"Actually, I don't. Before we start, could I have Jim Brass here?" Grissom asked with his characteristic courtesy.

"Brass had to take emergency leave this morning. He's in LA. Something about Ellie."

_Crap._ "In that case, I'd like my union rep."

"We're just talking here."

"I know the routine, Conrad. I also know my rights. I'm asking for my union rep. Now."

"Fine." Ecklie was fuming. "You should know IA is on their way too. I suggest you get comfortable. You will be here a while." He stalked out.

Grissom caught Vartann's eye, silently asking him to stay. The detective left with Ecklie, but returned a few minutes later and sat with Grissom, letting out a heavy sigh. He brought two mugs of coffee. Grissom sipped his gratefully.

"What's going on, detective?"

"You're in deep shit," he said bluntly. "Debbie Marlin was murdered this morning. Exsanguination due to multiple incisions of the throat. Sara Sidle found the body and called it in," Vartann shot him a look but could not read his impassive face. "Dayshift has the case. Sidle has been brought in for questioning too. Said she knew the victim."

"Can I see her?" Grissom blurted out.

"No. You're both involved. CSI Wilson found both your fingerprints, yours in blood, all over the place." Grissom felt a sinking feeling, wanting badly to see Sara and know she was okay, but understanding the situation.

Vartann again tried to read Grissom's reaction to this news, but no dice. He continued. "Wilson also found a lot of evidence...of sexual activity. Used condoms. Multiple semen stains and vaginal contributions on the sheets. Bloody footprints..."

A young blond CSI arrived at that moment and set his kit on the table. "Dr. Grissom? I'm John Wilson. CSI 2 from Dayshift."

"I know," Grissom said, though he barely recognized the man. He'd never worked with him, just vaguely recognized his face from encounters in the hallway. _A CSI 2? From Dayshift? Joy. You really want to nail me, Ecklie. Bastard._


End file.
